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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23288062">Catnapping</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonShades/pseuds/CrimsonShades'>CrimsonShades</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shall We Date?: Obey Me!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Gender-ambiguous MC, Other, Pining, short'n'sweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:48:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23288062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonShades/pseuds/CrimsonShades</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>More fluff, cause I wasn't 100% satisfied with my previous work and wanted to do right by my cat bby boy.</p><p>Sweetening up your quarantine with Satan and MC reading together.<br/>I wonder what will happen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Main Character/Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>250</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Catnapping</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay, so here we're hitting a lot more of that love letter vibe I was angling for with this one.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Saturdays are good days. Quiet days.<br/>
Saturdays shortly after Midterms have been written and it's all out of your hands now are even better.<br/>
Pretty much everyone is off, doing their own thing, taking it easy and blowing off some steam. Mammon and Belphie are catching up on lost sleep, as far as you know, and as long as you respond in time to Levi's messages, which he sends you at regular intervals, you're golden.<br/>
Stretched out on one of the couches in the library, your mind wandering between the letters and pages of a book you borrowed from Satan - nothing related to your studies, just casual fiction, something to let your thoughts casually meander to, the pages not demanding your attention or gripping it with cold, iron claws, just gently holding your hand and leading you on a pleasant little adventure.<br/>
Speaking of pleasant, Satan is perched on the other end of the couch, basically sitting on your legs. There isn't a lot of weight resting on your poor ankles though. You're both just sharing body heat. He's immersed in a book as well and there's a comfortable silence between you. The only sound is the occasional turning of a page, the vibrating of your D.D.D. and the crackling of the fire in the fireplace nearby.<br/>
It's warm, it's cozy, it's perfect. While you can feel the batteries of your life force finally being replenished after the stress of the past few weeks, your body's batteries are being drained as the seconds tick on and when you yawn, for the third time in five minutes, Satan breaks the silence.<br/>
"Getting tired?"<br/>
"Do you even know how many all-nighters I had to pull to make it through exams?"<br/>
"Oh well, I'm sorry. You didn't have to join me today if you'd rather nap." He sounds just the slightest bit huffy.<br/>
"But I wanted to", you try to calm the waves with a smile and it works, if his expression is anything to go by. Slightly tilted head, surprise clear in his emerald eyes, a brief rush of blood to his face.<br/>
"Well, if you want to rest your eyes for a bit, I can probably read you the next few pages, if you'd like", he offers with a smile.<br/>
"That sounds lovely", you admit and the two of you shift, so you're sitting right next to him. He puts his book down and picks yours up instead.<br/>
"Here?"<br/>
"Just take it from the top. I don't know how much I remember", you admit with a laugh and let your head fall back on the cushions of the couch.<br/>
There's a smile audible in his voice. "Alright."<br/>
With your eyes closed and darkness enveloping you, you honestly expected yourself to pass out, right then and there. But Satan's voice, soft and gentle, silky but warm, captures your attention effortlessly and holds it. Now he's leading you on that pleasant little adventure, holding your hand and guiding you, but you find yourself paying more attention to his voice, the way it wavers, the little ups and downs and different intonations, than the words he's saying with it.<br/>
So much of Satan reminds you of sunlight, even if he oft laments not getting to see a lot of it. He's warm, he's pleasant, all around like a nice summer day. His smile makes your insides feel brighter, his golden hair lights up your day when you see him pop up nearby and you just thoroughly enjoy the way his eyes sparkle when he's talking about something he's interested in.<br/>
You found yourself being drawn to him, like a moth to the light, easily the brightest of the seven. Spending time reading, watching his favorite dramas, just studying his expressions. The way he carries himself. His laugh is hands down one of the nicest, most genuine you've heard in your entire life.<br/>
It doesn't matter if his brothers claim that he's a cynic and an actor. He asks about your well-being and actually invites you to hang out, instead of kicking down your door or simply demanding your time.<br/>
He's even doing the different voices for the character, you realize. You feel a curious warmth spreading throughout you, not unlike getting close to the fireplace, but this one's starting in your bones and slowly radiating outwards. When it reaches your face, you smile.<br/>
With the way he's enunciating, your mind can't help but wander to his lips. You've done plenty of watching those, as well. Often wondering how they'd feel, pressed against yours, or other parts of your body. Any expanse of your skin would be fine, really.<br/>
Why haven't you, though? You spend so much time with him and you honestly get along swimmingly. It's like you don't even need words to communicate. Out of the seven, he's the only one you can just sit in silence and enjoy each other's company.<br/>
His voice has become a pleasant background noise to your thoughts, the words blurring into a steady sound that's just kind of going on while icy hot determination races through your veins.<br/>
You open your eyes and look at him. Sit up. Put your shaking hands on the book and nudge him to lower it.<br/>
"Something wrong?" he asks. There's concern in his eyes. Precious boy, being concerned for you. Your heart feels like it's going to overflow. Just what are you going to do with him.<br/>
Well, you do have an idea.<br/>
"Satan", you begin. His eyes don't leave your face, even as he sets the book down beside him. You seize the opportunity to take his hands in yours.<br/>
His lips form your name, but your courage has spiked, this is the most of it you'll ever have, in your entire life, you know it, so you lunge at him and press your lips against his.<br/>
There was too much momentum there and your teeth clash painfully against his. The sound reverberates in your skull and it hurts.<br/>
"Ouch", you hear him mutter.<br/>
"I'm sorry", you whisper, your lips just against his. You can feel them curve into a smile.<br/>
"You want to do it that rough? Really? Because I can. But for now, I'd much rather just do this."<br/>
And then he tilts your chin up and kisses you and he kisses you with such sweetness and softness and gentle that you think you're going to die. He lays feathery kisses all over your face and then he takes your lips in his and pushes against you with a ferocity you didn't expect after his initial approach, but it's fine, he's fine. The longer you kiss him, the hungrier he gets, like he wants to be closer, needs to be closer. Like he can't stand the two of you being separated by so much as an inch. His hands are on you, but instead of groping you or feeling you up, he's simply pulling you against him until his warmth is all there is in the world and his lips are against yours and your breaths become one.<br/>
You're overflowing with feeling. It's too much to tell what it is, a cavalcade of emotions running through you all at once, an entire rainbow of sentimentality and it's all because he's switching from so gentle, like you're going to break in his hands, and it's making you want to cry, to clawing at you, like even the skin separating you is too much, like he wants to consume you in your entirety and never be apart again. There's so much unchecked emotion and you can't blame him.<br/>
"I'm sorry", you hear him whisper. His breathing is heavy and you can feel his fingers, tangled in your hair, twitch, as he fights back the urge to claw at you again. "I've never really felt this way for anyone before."<br/>
"It's fine", you assure him and find yourself similarly out of breath. "I feel the same way."<br/>
And he looks at you like you're a literal angel, descended from the heavens to show him the gift of love and then you sink against each other again and try and find a rhythm and a pace and like the tides, there's push and pull, but it all fits together so seamlessly and it's okay that you have skin and clothes and are two separate beings, because that way, you can run your hands over each other and enjoy your company.</p><p>At one point, you open your eyes to find your head resting on Satan's shoulder. His head, in turn, is resting against yours. His mouth is open, his breathing soft.<br/>
All is quiet. The fireplace is crackling in the distance and you're warm, but not hot. There are remnants of sleepiness running through you, making your limbs heavy and your thinking slow.<br/>
There's a book in his lap and his jacket, you realize, is carefully draped around your shoulders, like a blanket.<br/>
It warms your aching heart.<br/>
But then, that begs the question. Did you dream about kissing him? Because objectively, you know you definitely have done that before, but this time felt so real. You can almost feel him lingering on your lips if you focus.<br/>
Was it real though, or did your overexerted brain just go absolutely overboard?<br/>
How long have you even been asleep for?<br/>
It's dark outside, but the Devildom sky has literally never been helpful in determining the time of day. You could reach for your D.D.D., which is literally just there and undoubtedly spammed by Levi, but you're comfortable as you are and don't really wanna move.<br/>
So you close your eyes again and, while not tired enough to doze off again, you relax, listening to Satan's soft, but even breathing against you until the images of your dream-not a dream grip you tightly and you see no other option. You put a hand on his shoulder and shake him, ever so lightly, until he blinks his eyes open and stares at you, his brain not yet online and him trying to piece together who you are, where and also why and maybe, while it's at it, also who he is.<br/>
"What...?", he finally drawls out. Early morning Satan is adorable, for the first five minutes or so after waking up, with his brain just buffering and him talking very slowly, very drawn out and using much shorter words than normally. Awake Satan has no issue about shoving an entire thesaurus down the entire household's throat and you genuinely enjoy watching the puzzled faces he leaves in his wake.<br/>
"Oh. Hey." So he figured out who you are then.<br/>
Your hand finds his face. He's not done processing that yet and just blinks sluggishly. You're surprised he doesn't blink one eye at a time.<br/>
"Did we kiss?", you ask him.<br/>
"Huh?"<br/>
"Before we fell asleep?"<br/>
"Uhh. I- may have dreamed about that." He admits, slowly. But his eyes remain on you. His brain is not yet booted up enough to activate filters.exe, you realize.<br/>
"Can I kiss you then?", you ask, emboldened by the recent experience your subconscious so graciously gifted you. Your face is burning, but this feels like the best shot you're going to get anytime soon.<br/>
He blinks again. That sluggish haze disappears out of his eyes, they're clearing up. He's backing about half an inch away from you and just as you're about to apologize and get out, he grabs your hand. Weaves his fingers through yours and gives you a gentle squeeze.<br/>
"I'd really love that, honestly", he admits. There's that sheepiness to his voice and he's smiling again and you're warm and happy.<br/>
And then you kiss him and you're even warmer and happier than before. Feeling well-rested, you sink against him and he sinks against you and you're holding each other and finding that rhythm and slowly but surely, it's all working out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Me: *rushes through one story because I'm tired and I want sleep*<br/>Also me: *literally starts writing the next one no five minutes later and ends up staying up late again*</p></blockquote></div></div>
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